


Smiling in the Morning

by TeddyTales



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 19:23:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15564750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeddyTales/pseuds/TeddyTales
Summary: Beau doesn’t claim to know much about Yasha and her storms, but she finds a comfort she’s unwilling to question in hearing the rain on the windows. Like the sky is welcoming her home--as much of a home as a rented room in a brothel can be, in any case.“You’ll be fine,” she whispers, quiet enough to almost drown in the sound of the rain. She thinks she’s probably trying to convince herself more than Yasha. “We’re fine.”





	Smiling in the Morning

**Author's Note:**

> i super didn't proof read this, but i just finished watching the gen con show, and this was just a short thing i couldn't get out of my head. figured i should put it somewhere. odds are this is definitely gonna be canon non-compliant in a week, but that's just how it be i guess.
> 
> also, some pretty big spoilers for about episode 25 and onward

It’s raining when they get back.

Yasha lies on one of their rented beds, still unconscious despite Caduceus pumping some kind of magic into her earlier. He said she’d be fine; Beau isn’t sure whether she should trust him on that. Yasha breathes, slow and steady, and on every exhale there’s a brief moment of panic that an inhale won’t come. It does, every time, but it doesn’t stop Beau’s heart from rattling in her chest.

She slides to her knees, careful not to make a sound; sits by the side of the bed and stares at the knocked out woman before her. Beau doesn’t claim to know much about Yasha and her storms, but she finds a comfort she’s unwilling to question in hearing the rain on the windows. Like the sky is welcoming her home--as much of a home as a rented room in a brothel can be, in any case.

“You’ll be fine,” she whispers, quiet enough to almost drown in the sound of the rain. She thinks she’s probably trying to convince herself more than Yasha. “We’re fine.”

Yasha doesn’t answer, of course, but her hand twitches just slightly, and that’s good enough for Beau. Yasha never talked much anyway.

Beau swallows thickly; they still don’t know what happened in that stronghold. They still don’t know what their friends went through. She’s never been good with feelings, or trauma, or how all of that works, but a sick worry that Yasha may be done speaking altogether washes over her.

And then Fjord, who’s so much better at talking than any of them. And Jester, who’s never missed an opportunity to make a joke. Beau isn’t one for praying, but in this moment she sends a silent hope out into the universe that they haven’t been broken yet.

And Molly. It’s too late for Molly, she thinks bitterly. Even should he rise from the ground again, the odds that he’ll be their Molly are slim. Still, that doesn’t stop her from including him in her hoping; she’s already betting on higher powers, she has nothing to lose.

Beau takes a breath; what’s done is done. They saved three of them. Lorenzo is scattered on the stone floor of his stronghold, and he’ll never hurt anyone again. Beau’s chest feels tight and warm all at once--she left somewhere better than she found it this time. Molly would have been pleased, she thinks.

Yasha doesn’t even know yet.

That’s enough to make Beau frustratedly wipe at her eyes. Whatever weird friendship had been developing between her and Molly was nothing in comparison to the love shared between him and Yasha. And whatever torture she might have been subjected to, whatever she had had to endure these past few days, Yasha was still about to wake up and find her best friend dead.

“I’m not good at apologies,” Beau says quietly, voice grainy, “but I’m sorry.”

She’s not sure why she says it. She’s not sure why she leans closer, either, places her hand on top of Yasha’s and gives it a short squeeze. Perhaps she’s just apologizing to herself--that would be typical. Always putting herself first when others need it more.

“I’m so sorry,” and she’s terrified to admit that that one’s not selfish. It’s just honest.

She gets up. Ignores the hook in her stomach that makes her want to stay--an ache she’s been ignoring since the first time Yasha left.

Keg is somewhere downstairs, drinking. Beau said she’d be right down half an hour ago--she promised company for the night, and she’s not about to back down from a promise. Not that it won’t be a welcome distraction.

Still, Beau looks over her shoulder once more on her way out the door. Yasha exhales, inhales. She looks smaller like this, fragile for the first time.

And Beau leaves, knowing it’s hopeless but still hoping to see Yasha smiling in the morning.


End file.
